


forever is a promise

by harinezumi_kun



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-01
Updated: 2010-08-01
Packaged: 2017-11-05 10:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/405227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harinezumi_kun/pseuds/harinezumi_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ohno buys nino a ring. nino doesn't want it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	forever is a promise

The store is miniscule. It doesn’t even have any front windows, there’s just the open door and a metalwork sign with the shop’s name (an unlikely and unpronounceable combination of English and Japanese). The store front is painted all in black and is barely visible between the flashy boutique on one side and the shoe store on the other.

“Well, here we are,” Jun says with a touch of irritation. “Now will you please tell me why on earth you needed to go to a jewelry store?”

Ohno shifts uncomfortably and can’t quite bring himself to meet Jun’s eyes. “I need to buy something,” he mutters.

“Obviously,” Jun deadpans, not to be deterred. “But what, exactly, are you buying?”

Ohno wonders if Jun suspects, or if he’s just showing his concern regarding Ohno’s fashion sense.

“It’s not for _me_ ,” Ohno says, defensive, and realizes too late that he should have just kept his mouth shut.

Jun’s eyebrows jump up above the frames of his too-big sunglasses, and Ohno imagines the younger man’s eyes are wide behind the tinted plastic.

“Oh,” Jun says finally, but leaves it at that. There’s a certain tightness around his mouth, though, that gives Ohno the feeling that Jun is starting to regret this shopping trip.

They duck into the store and are forced to go single file. Between the displays on the walls and the case in the center of the room, there is only a shoulder’s breadth of walking space all the way around. Ohno pauses at the threshold to let his eyes adjust. The store is dim, but he can make out a lot of black and silver, big stones and thick chain work. He can definitely see why Jun likes to shop here. He worries briefly that he won’t be able to find what he’s looking for, but decides he might as well give it a try.

“I’m just gonna look around,” he mumbles vaguely before ambling away. Jun watches him for a moment, then turns the other direction with a shrug, to peruse a wall of heavy necklaces.

Glancing around, Ohno is momentarily at a loss. There are some chunky bracelets (no, no, that’s not it), a vast display of shiny, dangly, vaguely dangerous looking earrings (definitely not), and then some long, pointy—are those hat pins? No, none of this is right at all, and he thinks maybe this isn’t the store for him after all.

But then he sees it, positioned in the back corner of the shop—the ring display.

He wanders closer, glancing guiltily over his shoulder at Jun, but the younger man is still engrossed in the necklaces. Looking back towards the rings, Ohno feels his face coloring and his palms starting to sweat. Which is stupid, because it’s not like this is a big deal, it’s just a birthday present, and just because it’s a ring doesn’t mean—

Ohno interrupts his own train of thought, deciding to just focus on picking something out for the time being.

A good number of the rings are big and gaudy. Rhinestone skulls and roses, thick bands studded with heavy stones. None of those are really right. There’s a small section of rings with real diamonds, but Ohno knows those will get him in trouble, so he steers clear. Then he spots a little plaque that says “couple rings”. He can’t resist.

There are more examples of the heavy, gothic stuff that fills the rest of the store, but Ohno finds a few designs he actually likes. One set is twisted to look kind of like a rope, and he sort of likes the woven together idea. He pauses uncertainly over a pair with dolphins on them, but decides they’re too girly. Then, near the end of the row, he sees a set that catches his eye if only for the simplicity of the design—a plain band with a darker line etched through the center, and underneath, engraved lettering. It’s in English, but a helpful tag provides a translation: “Together where ever we go.”

He’s barely finished reading the tag before he’s reaching for the box. He has the rings in his hand when he feels Jun at his elbow.

“A ring?” the younger man says. His voice is soft, hesitant.

Ohno just shrugs in response. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Jun lick his lips, brow furrowing in concern.

“For Nino?”

Again, Ohno feels a blush rising in his cheeks, and he just nods.

Jun lets out a slow sigh. “Leader…I don’t know if—it’s just, you guys have only been going out for a few months…”

“I know,” Ohno answers, quiet and just a little petulant. “It’s just a present.”

“But it’s a _ring_ …”

“I know,” Ohno says again. He runs the pad of his thumb slowly over the little silver band.

Jun doesn’t speak for a moment, but Ohno can feel the weight of his gaze. Part of him knows that Jun is right, that even if he says it’s just a present, they both know that Ohno means it as something more. But that’s just how Ohno is—if he loves someone, he wants to keep them, he wants to show it. And this was the first thing he thought of.

“You already made up your mind, huh?” 

Ohno looks up to see a bemused kind of smile on Jun’s face. The younger man has pushed his sunglasses up onto his head and is looking down at Ohno with a soft expression. Ohno nods again.

“Okay,” Jun says on a long exhale. “But just…be careful. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I won’t,” Ohno mumbles as he heads for the register. “It isn’t.”

“Okay,” Jun says again.

*

Nino collapses dramatically to his back the floor. His thin chest heaves, and he throws an arm across his face.

“Were those the last boxes?” he asks, breathless.

Ohno glances around the little apartment one last time before smiling down at Nino. “Yup. Those were the last ones.”

Nino doesn’t move from his exhausted sprawl, but a satisfied smile spreads over his face. After almost a week of shuttling boxes across the city, rearranging furniture, and endless unpacking, Nino is finally moved in to his new apartment. Well, according to the lease and all other official documentation, it’s Nino’s apartment, but there were enough boxes full of Ohno’s things in the mix to give the place a warm feeling of _ours_.

Ohno smiles, chewing his lower lip. _Ours_. And it had been Nino’s idea, hadn’t it? So it’s not just Ohno who’s taking this seriously, right? And today, finally, is Nino’s birthday. The ring is in Ohno’s jacket pocket, nestled in a little silver box. It’s not a big deal. He should just give it to him.

Nino peeks out from under his arm in time to catch Ohno’s troubled expression. 

“What?” he says, with a lazy smile.

Ohno shakes his head, making a little dismissive grunt. “Just looking at you.”

Nino’s smile widens, and at the same time as Ohno bends down to take advantage of Nino’s sprawl, Nino starts to get up—the result is Nino’s knee in Ohno’s stomach, followed by a fantastic collapse and tangle of limbs.

“What are you doing?” Nino whines, but his arms are tight around Ohno’s back. “Trying to crush me to death?”

“I was going to have my way with you,” Ohno grumbles into Nino’s hair. “It was a sexy disaster.”

Nino laughs, loud and infectious. Ohno speaks without thinking.

“I have a present for you.”

“Hmm?” Nino turns his head curiously and wiggles himself free. “A present? Why didn’t you give it to me at dinner like everyone else?”

Ohno sits cross-legged and twists his fingers together nervously. “Well, it’s—I mean, I wanted to, um…give it to you, you know, personally.”

Nino gives him a look of bemused exasperation. “Well, give it to me, then. Where is it, in your bag? Your coat?”

Before Ohno can even move, Nino has dashed to the sofa and snatched Ohno’s things from where they were hanging over the arm. He’s already halfway through Ohno’s bag before the older man can protest.

“No, wait! It’s—let me—”

“Whaaat?” Nino says mischievously. When Ohno makes to grab his things, Nino scrambles over the back of the couch and runs for it. He discards the bag halfway across the room and starts digging through the pockets of Ohno’s jacket.

“Nino, stop it!” Ohno protests, but it’s already too late. 

Nino has the little silver box in his hand. He hasn’t realized, though, what it is, and there’s still a curious grin on his face. He tosses Ohno’s jacket aside, and backs away as Ohno advances.

“What is it?” Nino giggles. The sarcasm is thick in his voice when he says: “It’s not like you got me a ring or something.”

His smile disappears when he sees the stricken look on Ohno’s face. In an instant, the atmosphere in the room becomes as thick as the humid June air outside. Nino swats Ohno’s hand away when the other man makes a final grab for the present, and opens the box. The little click of the hinge sounds like a gunshot in the sudden silence.

Ohno’s not sure what he’s expecting. Before, when he’s imagined giving a ring to someone—up to now, it was always a girl—there’s a shy smile and a blush, and eyes that sparkle with disbelief.

But Nino is not now and never was like any of those girls. His face is a stiff mask, smooth as ice as he looks down at the silver band mounted in black velvet. 

“It’s not a big deal,” Ohno says weakly. “I just…it doesn’t have to mean anything…”

Nino doesn’t look up when he speaks. “There were two rings in here. Where’s the other one?”

Ohno flushes with guilt, but hesitates only a moment before pulling out the leather cord around his neck. The other ring in the pair bounces against his chest once, then stills.

The ice in Nino’s expression doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and they flash dangerously at the sight of the matching ring. Finally, he looks up at Ohno.

“What does it say?” he says, and his voice is almost a whisper.

“Together where ever we go.”

“What does that mean to you, Oh-chan?”

Ohno meets Nino’s eyes determinedly. He sees the trembling uncertainty there and it makes him suddenly bold.

“It means forever,” he says in a breathless rush.

And then Nino’s face crumbles.

“I can’t take this,” he chokes out, shoving the box back at Ohno. 

“Wh—Nino, wait!”

Because Nino is walking quickly away, headed for the bedroom. Ohno runs after him, throws a shoulder against the door before Nino can pull it open.

“Kazu,” he tries softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t,” Nino says, and his hand is still on the doorknob. “Forever—that’s a promise you can’t keep. And I can’t…if it’s you…”

Ohno reaches for him, but Nino steps back, pulling the door with him and jostling Ohno out of the way. He’s in the bedroom before Ohno can stop him, and then the lock clicks into place. Ohno tries the handle anyway, pointlessly, and pounds a fist against the door in frustration.

“Nino!” he calls, anger tingeing his voice now. Nino’s reply comes muffled through the door.

“Go home, Oh-chan. Just go home.”

Ohno pauses, then drops his forehead against the door. He speaks on an almost inaudible sigh: “I am home.”

But Nino doesn’t respond. He probably didn’t hear it, Ohno thinks, and steps away. After a few moments of staring indecisively at the locked door, he turns back to the living room.

He leaves the box on the coffee table, dead center, then changes his mind and stuffs it into Nino’s bag. 

He gathers his few things, then pauses in the genkan for a last glance around the apartment. There are video games piled next to the TV, and sketchbooks piled on the bookshelf. Nino’s guitar is propped against the wall next to an easel and a fishing rod—all the things that didn’t belong in the closet, but didn’t fit anywhere else. One wall has become a random collage of poloroids from tours, magazine clippings, take-out menus, and a pair of red and blue feathers tied together with a shoe string and held up with a thumbtack. 

It’s _them_. The whole place is them. Ohno doesn’t want to leave, but he can’t bring himself to stay. He’s made a mess of everything.

He runs.

*

Ohno almost calls in sick the next day. He almost expects Nino to call in, but knows in the end that unless they were, in fact, mortally ill, it’s an impossibility. Still, his reluctance to face Nino again makes his feet drag, and he’s the last one to the studio.

As he expected, Nino has completely shut himself off, scrunched into a tiny ball around his DS in one corner of the couch with his headphones on and his things piled next to him, preventing company. Sho and Aiba have their heads together at the mirror, and as soon as Ohno sits down at his make-up table, Jun is next to him with a little crease forming between his eyebrows.

“So you gave it to him?”

Ohno’s lips twist down at the corners. “Good morning, Leader. How are you today? Gee, you look a little tired, is everything okay?”

Ohno’s sarcasm—while a somewhat rare and surprising event—is not enough to deter Jun, who gives him a flat stare that plainly says “Well?”

“Yes, I gave it to him,” Ohno mutters, sighing. “He flipped out.”

Jun just nods, like he was expecting it all along. Ohno takes a breath to speak—to protest, to complain, to demand a solution—but Jun is already standing, patting him on the shoulder and saying “I’ll talk to him”.

A moment later, Jun is tossing Nino’s bag to the far side of the couch and making himself comfortable next to the other man. This earns him a very dirty look from Nino, but Jun just flips open a magazine and ignores it. When Nino doesn’t turn his glare away, Jun casually pulls out Nino’s earbud and murmurs something, low, without looking away from his magazine. Nino blinks in surprise, then slowly replaces the earbud before returning to his game and leaning heavily on Jun, who continues reading as if nothing unusual is going on.

Ohno watches the exchange with mixed feelings. He’s grateful to Jun, of course, for always worrying about them and taking care of them, but it’s frustrating, too—frustrating that Nino won’t talk to Ohno, that Jun is getting all of Nino’s attention, that now Sho and Aiba are throwing him sympathetic glances from across the room. And all this because of a stupid little piece of jewelry.

With no time to sort this out before filming starts, and with no idea how to sort it out anyway, Ohno does what he always does in a bad situation—he puts his head down and goes to sleep.

*

During the shoot, Nino is no different than usual, laughing and smiling and quick with a sharp word. Maybe he hangs on Sho a little more than Ohno, or keeps his arms crossed instead of throwing them casually around Ohno’s shoulders, but otherwise, everything could be perfectly normal.

Except that Ohno can feel the difference. It radiates from Nino in waves, like static electricity, like a sound he can’t quite hear, like that noiseless buzz when his ears are ringing. The feeling of something being off, something being _wrong_.

He knows that Nino is still angry, and for a moment he wishes he’d never given Nino the ring in the first place. But just that thought is enough to make him realize he doesn’t _want_ to take it back. He won’t. He gave Nino a ring, he said forever, and he meant it. He won’t cheapen it by pretending it never happened.

By lunch time, he’s determined to take Nino aside and talk to him, to make him understand, but his plans are hijacked by the rest of the band. Before Ohno can even open his mouth, Jun and Aiba have Nino by the arms and are steering him out of the dressing room and towards the cafeteria just as Sho enters with a pair of bentou lunches.

“I am a grown up, you know,” Ohno says, through a mouthful of rice—no point in wasting free food. “I can handle this.”

“Of course you can,” Sho agrees, taking a more reasonably sized bite. “We just want to help.”

“I appreciate that. But this is my problem.”

“Satoshi,” Sho sighs, and again Ohno feels a stab of irritation at being treated like a petulant five-year-old. “You—both of you—are our friends. And you’re our bandmates, too. What goes on with you two effects the rest of us, whether you like it or not.”

A brief spark of anger flares up in Ohno’s chest—he can take care of himself, dammit, he’s dating Nino, not all of Arashi—but fizzles just as quickly. It’s been happening all day, and he’s so tired.

“Fine,” he mumbles into his lunch. “So, what do I do?”

And, surprisingly, Sho laughs, his face crinkling up into a fond smile. “It’s probably not going to be that easy,” he chuckles, but they spend the rest of the lunch hour talking solutions.

The turning point comes after Ohno has—with a good deal of embarrassment and some editing—told Sho what happened last night. Sho sucks in a slow breath through his teeth, and nods to himself.

“Hmm. Well. That was practically a proposal, wasn’t it?”

“Well, yeah, but…so what?” Ohno demands, flustered. “What the hell is wrong with telling him I want to be with him forever?”

Sho sighs and runs a hand through his hair, choosing his words carefully.

“It’s just that, his parents are divorced—I know you know that already—but his parents are divorced, and he’s had a couple really hard break-ups since we’ve known him, and I think…I just think he’s always going to have a really hard time trusting ‘forever’.” Sho meets Ohno’s eyes then. “No matter who it is.”

Ohno watches the other man and feels like he’s slowly deflating. “But, then…how can I…?”

Sho shakes his head a little, a worried line between his eyebrows. “You’ll have to figure out how to make him believe you.”

While Ohno is grateful that Sho understands, that Sho didn’t tell him to just give up or take it back, making Nino believe him seems like a task he is not equipped to achieve. He’s hard pressed to think of something better than a proposal to prove his sincerity. And he thinks getting down on one knee would probably just earn him a kick in the face.

“Okay,” he says finally, uncertainly. “I’ll try.”

*

At the end of the day, though, Ohno is alone in the dressing room. By the time he got done changing, everyone else was already gone. As he stuffs his few belongings into his bag, he can’t decide whether he’s annoyed that no one waited for him, or relieved that he can put off a confrontation with Nino a little longer. He still hasn’t made up his mind when he hears a commotion from the other side of the hall door.

“Stop it! I don’t—”

“We’re helping you! This is important!”

“Suck it up and talk to him, alright?”

And then the door bursts open and Nino is shoved unceremoniously inside. He turns immediately to try the handle, but someone is apparently leaning on it from the other side.

“Fuck,” Nino says, kicking the door. “Goddamn interfering little sons of—”

He cuts himself off and presses the heels of his hands to his eyes before turning back to the room with a sharp sigh.

“Hi,” he says, without really looking at Ohno, who hasn’t moved from his spot by the mirror.

“Hi,” Ohno returns uncertainly.

After a pause, Nino stalks over to the couch, sits down, and rifles through his bag before pulling out the ring box. Well, Ohno thinks, at least he found it. And didn’t throw it away. Nino sets the box down sharply on the table in front of him, then pushes it slightly in the direction Ohno is still standing.

“I told you, I can’t take this.”

Ohno doesn’t answer right away. He moves across the room and takes a seat next to Nino—leaving him almost a foot of space—but doesn’t touch the box.

“So what does that mean?” he asks quietly. “Are we breaking up?”

“No!” Nino’s response is immediate and emphatic, and they are both so surprised that they look up, and for a moment, their eyes meet. Nino looks away first.

“No,” he says again. “But you’re going to take this back, and we’re going to pretend this never happened.”

“I won’t,” Ohno tells him, voice hard and flat.

Nino looks up at him again, and his mouth is stretched in a tight, angry line. “Why not?”

“Because I meant it. Because it’s true.” Ohno searches Nino’s face, praying that the other man will see the sincerity in his eyes.

And maybe he does. But it’s not enough. Nino’s eyes flash, and he drops his head into his hands.

“You don’t know that,” he grates out. “You _can’t_ know that. If you tell me ‘forever’, and then someday you meet someone else, someone better—”

Of course, Ohno suddenly realizes. As much as this was about Nino’s inability to believe in a lasting relationship, it’s about how Nino can’t believe in himself. Ohno moves to kneel in front of Nino and pull his hands away from his face.

“I don’t want anyone else,” he tells Nino softly, with just a touch of exasperation. 

Nino allows Ohno to keep a hold on his wrists. His voice is small, fragile, shards of glass. “Maybe not right now. But, later…someday…I won’t be good enough.”

“You will,” Ohno says, feeling his heart breaking and his frustration building. “You always will.”

“How do you know that?” Nino insists. “Things change, people change, all the time, especially for people like us, we’re—”

“I just know,” Ohno interrupts him. And at the risk of sounding ridiculously sappy, he continues. “I believe in us.”

For a trembling moment, Nino looks like he’s about to give. His face starts to relax, he leans towards Ohno just slightly, and Ohno leans forward to meet him. 

But then, a wall comes crashing down over Nino’s face, hard and angry, and he tears his hands free of Ohno’s grip and heads for the door. But Ohno is ready this time, he’s faster, and before Nino is halfway across the room, Ohno has him by the shoulders, pinned against the wall.

“You’re supposed to get it,” Nino is saying, even as Ohno moves to cover the younger man’s mouth with his own. “You’re supposed to understand.”

Ohno kisses him, hard, but Nino struggles, turns his head.

“I _don’t_ understand,” Ohno says against his cheek, breathing heavy. “Why can’t you just trust me?”

“I trust you,” Nino begins, pushing at Ohno’s chest when he tries for another kiss. “Mm—stop!—But this is different.”

“Why?”

Nino’s stare begs him to understand, and in a strange moment of tenderness, his hands come up to frame Ohno’s face.

“If you try to give me this, and it doesn’t work out—if it’s you—I couldn’t stand it.”

Ohno still doesn’t get it, Nino seems to know that, but he lets Ohno kiss him this time and gives back as good as he gets. Tongues and limbs tangle, almost angrily. Maybe this, Ohno thinks, maybe if he shows Nino how much he means it, maybe this is better than his flimsy, clumsy words.

But eventually Nino pulls away, just a little, still speaking into Ohno’s mouth.

“Please,” he says, almost a whimper. “Take it back.”

Ohno’s voice is broken and helpless when he replies.

“No.”

He lets Nino go, lets himself be pushed away. The door opens when Nino slams his way out, but Ohno is staring at the wall. He hears low voices—sharp, angry—and then Nino’s footsteps moving away down the hall. Someone is following him, and Ohno realizes it must be Jun because Aiba is suddenly beside him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and steering him back to the couch.

Aiba doesn’t say anything, and Ohno thinks vaguely that he should be angry—that the others interfered, that this all went so badly—but he’s so tired of being angry, and it doesn’t really accomplish anything anyway. Aiba sits them down, and Ohno just leans on him and submits to being petted.

After a few minutes of silence, Ohno speaks.

“Jun went with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that a good idea?”

Aiba chuckles, low and breathy. “It’s okay, Jun can take care of him. They have a lot in common. More than they like to admit.”

“Oh.”

Another long pause.

“Is that…?” Aiba says finally, pointing to the silver box Nino left on the table.

Ohno shifts, self-conscious. “Yeah.”

“Can I look at it?”

“Sure,” Ohno sighs.

Aiba leans forward and picks up the box, resting his elbows on his knees as he opens it. The latch gives a little snick. 

“It’s pretty,” Aiba says after a moment, touching the ring delicately, like it might break.

Ohno makes a noncommittal grunt. Then he sits up.

“Will you give it back to him?” he asks, knowing it’s probably a bad idea.

Aiba turns to look at him for a moment, then smiles. “Of course I will. Nino’s lucky that you’re so stubborn.”

Ohno allows himself a small grin, and shrugs. “He’s the stubborn one.”

“Match made in heaven,” Aiba sing-songs, with just a touch of sarcasm. He closes the box, and turns it over in his hands thoughtfully. “Just give him some time,” he adds softly.

Ohno nods and blows a short breath out through his nose. A moment later, Aiba jostles him with an elbow, and Ohno jostles him back, and is suddenly deeply, endlessly grateful that he has such nosey interfering friends.

“Okay, Leader,” Aiba says, suddenly business like, “time to go get drunk.”

Ohno only has to think about this for about two seconds before he’s on his feet.

“Hell yes.”

*

The next day, except for the hangover, nothing is really different. No one is running interference anymore, but Nino still isn’t speaking to Ohno, and the ring does not reappear. The day after is the same, and the next, until days have bled into weeks, into nearly a month.

In all that time, Ohno hasn’t been back to the apartment. There’s nothing there he can’t live without—aside from the one obvious exception—and his mother is more than happy to keep feeding and housing him in the meantime. 

It’s miserable, but Ohno gets used to it. He has to—there’s no time in their lives, really, to keep pursuing this if Nino isn’t willing, and Ohno thinks that maybe he’s starting to understand what Nino was getting at. They get busy, they grow apart. But no, this wouldn’t have happened if Nino had just said yes. He should be angry, but he just feels numb. Nino never says anything, and Ohno starts to wonder. Maybe, to Nino, he’s just not worth it.

But Ohno never stops loving him. It would be easier, he thinks, if he didn’t love him as much. But he does.

And it’s not that the other members don’t still try to help. They are always there, as a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on, but they seem to sense that there isn’t much more they can do. Ohno’s glad they’re there, anyway.

It is one month after Nino’s birthday, and Ohno is beginning to think that he’s missed his chance. He should have tried again, he should have done something, it’s too late now—but they’re in the middle of a magazine interview, and he doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

The questions are typical—what activities do you enjoy in the summer? Do you like going to the beach? Describe your ideal summer date—and Ohno gives generic answers about ice cream and fishing and lamenting his dark skin. Eventually the topic rolls around to relationships, but again, most of the questions can be answered without a lot of serious thought.

But then, suddenly, the interviewer is asking “Do you ever think about getting married?” and somehow, the question is directed straight at _him_.

He blinks stupidly a few times, and the interviewer asks “Ohno-san?” hesitantly. Unable to come up with a quick, simple answer, Ohno does the only thing he can think of—he tells the truth.

“Yeah,” he says, making himself look only at the interviewer. “I…actually, I start thinking about it almost as soon as I start dating someone. If I love them, I can’t think about anyone else, and so of course I start thinking about marriage and, you know…” For a fraction of a second, he feels his gaze slide to Nino before pulling it back. “…forever.”

“Oh, how romantic,” the woman titters. “So, would you propose? Right away?”

“Sure,” Ohno says easily. “If you love someone, you just say it. You just tell them.”

“My my! Does this mean you’ve already proposed to someone?”

Ohno forces a laugh. “Not recently.”

And the interviewer laughs and moves on.

*

But something changes. Out of the corner of his eye, Ohno watches Nino, sees the younger man’s eyes slipping out of focus, sees him worrying his lower lip through the rest of the interview. He doesn’t get his hopes up, though, so when Nino doesn’t come sit next to him or even look at him when they’re all shuffled into a waiting room later, he isn’t too disappointed.

He still feels it, though, almost like an itch, a pull. He keeps looking up just in time to see Nino looking away, and as they all part ways for separate filming, Nino passes close to him, closer than he has—voluntarily—in weeks, and Ohno could swear he feels fingertips skate across the back of his hand.

The next day, he’s still hyper aware of the other man. He knows it’s Nino coming into the dressing room without even looking up, and when Nino sits at the other end of the couch from him, Ohno can hardly keep still for wanting to move closer. Aiba and Sho are already there, and Ohno catches them exchanging curious glances when they think Ohno isn’t looking. 

“Hey, Oh-chan,” Nino says, and Ohno feels his heart leap into this throat. When he looks up, he notices that Nino is shuffling his deck of cards.

“Yeah?”

“Wanna see a magic trick?”

“Sure.”

Ohno slides over, still cautious, stopping a good six inches or so from the other man. When Nino closes the rest of the distance, pressing them firmly together at shoulder and thigh, Ohno thinks he might just burst into tears right now. He manages to keep it together, but he catches a reflection of Aiba in the mirror, practically vibrating with excitement and pumping a fist in the air. Sho restrains him quickly.

Nino shuffles and fans the cards out. “Okay, pick a card.”

Ohno does so obediently. After a moment, Nino smirks, just the tiniest bit.

“You have to look at it, Oh-chan.”

“Right,” Ohno says quickly, looking down at his card. “Okay.”

“Memorized it? Okay, put it back. Anywhere in the deck.”

Once Ohno has returned the card, Nino shuffles again, and does a few clever cuts before tapping the deck twice, sharply. A card jumps up from the middle of the stack, and Nino holds it up.

“Is this your card?”

Ohno is just thinking to himself that this was a really easy trick, one Nino’s definitely shown him before, when he sees it.

Nino is holding up Ohno’s card with his left hand. And there, on his ring finger, a little glint of silver.

“Yeah,” Ohno answers, barely able to speak for how wide he’s smiling. “That’s mine.”

Nino smiles back, but before Ohno can do anything—tackle him, hug him, kiss him breathless—Nino slides the card back into the deck, pats Ohno on the head, and walks out of the room.

*

Nino is like that for the rest of the day—just out of reach, not quite close enough—with a sly little smile on his face. Ohno means to corner him in the dressing room, but he gets tangled up in his mic pack as he’s leaving the set, and Nino is long gone by the time Ohno gets there. He wants to scream in frustration, but then Jun taps him on the shoulder, smirking from behind his thick-framed glasses.

“Here,” he says, holding out a hand. “Nino said you forgot this.”

Ohno looks down, vaguely panicked, but all Jun is holding is a key.

A key to Nino’s apartment.

He gives Jun a hug hard enough to crack several ribs, before leaving the building at top speed.

*

The apartment is dark and quiet when Ohno lets himself in. He can hear the hum of the air conditioner, the low rumble of traffic outside, faint footsteps from the hallway one floor up. Little red and blue lights wink at him from the direction of the television, from Nino’s army of gaming equipment. For a moment, he wonders if Nino is even here, but he only pauses to slip out of his shoes and drop his bag next to the couch before heading to the bedroom.

The door is slightly ajar, and when Ohno pushes it open, he can make out a lump in the bed that must be Nino. He doesn’t wait, crossing the room and lifting the covers to slide underneath.

But Nino isn’t moving. He’s curled tight into himself—he’s trembling. Ohno feels a little catch in his breathing, and reaches out to slide an arm over Nino’s back.

“Nino,” he murmurs. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

And then, suddenly, Nino is opening up, his arms are sliding around Ohno’s chest, legs tangling, and when he presses his face into Ohno’s neck, it is wet with tears.

“Stay,” he whispers fiercely. In that single word, Ohno hears an echo of every night spent alone, counting seconds between when he closes his eyes and when he falls asleep.

“I will,” Ohno says, without hesitation. “Forever. Right?”

He feels Nino nod, swallowing hard, and then he can’t wait anymore—he turns his head and kisses him.

It is all salty tears and feverish skin, and never enough after so many days apart. Nino is rough, demanding, pushing into Ohno’s mouth, biting at his lips, pulling none too gently at his hair. Ohno pushes back, like he has something to prove, digging his fingernails into the skin of Nino’s back, but the younger man just moans and Ohno drinks in the sound.

They rid each other of their clothing with practiced familiarity. Ohno tastes the curves of Nino’s shoulders when they appear, and the hollows of his collarbones. Nino’s hands slide hungrily down Ohno’s back, between his ribs, over the planes of his stomach. For a time, they just enjoy touching, feeling, reacquainting themselves with all they have missed. But the low, slow-burning heat in Ohno’s stomach can’t wait for very long.

He tries to go slow, but it’s hard. When Nino sucks in a sharp breath, or gives a little whine, Ohno apologizes with a soft kiss to his knee, the inside of his thigh. And then he’s there, as far as he can go, they are as close as they can be. Nino’s breathing is slow, deep, carefully measured. Ohno watches a bead of sweat roll down along his jaw line, his neck, and disappear into his hair.

“Kazu,” Ohno whispers, leaning forward and dropping a kiss to Nino’s chest. “I love you. I—”

“I—nn—I know,” Nino tells him, sliding hands into his hair. “I love you. Just—ah—just move, Oh-chan.”

Ohno smiles into Nino’s skin, and does as he’s told.

Their pace is desperate, too fast to last as long as Ohno wants it to, but Nino’s hands are on his shoulders now, gripping hard and begging him not to stop. They come within moments of each other, and Ohno reaches out to touch Nino’s face when he cries out, capturing the expression in his memory.

Later, after Ohno has cleaned them up and tucked the blankets back around them, Nino pushes himself up onto an elbow to look down at Ohno. 

“Hmm?” Ohno murmurs. Nino’s face is lit only dimly by the faint light from the window, and Ohno can’t quite read the look in his eyes.

“It’s going to be hard,” Nino says, barely moving his lips. One hand comes up to trace a feather-light line from Ohno’s temple to the corner of his mouth.

Ohno catches Nino’s hand and turns his head to press a kiss to the palm. “Don’t care.”

Nino lets out a tiny breath of a laugh. There’s a kind of awed disbelief in the quirk of his lips.

“Let’s try,” Ohno says, his voice a little stronger.

After a pause, Nino nods and leans in for a kiss. He curls himself comfortably against Ohno, and is asleep a few minutes later. And for once, Ohno does not immediately succumb to unconsciousness, but instead stays awake, listening to Nino’s steady breathing, and feeling the rise and fall of his ribcage.

Maybe tomorrow Nino might not be so ready to try, but it gives Ohno some comfort that Nino is still wearing the ring—he can feel the cold brush of metal where Nino’s hand is curled against his shoulder. He’ll have to string it on a cord, like he did his own, he reminds himself sleepily.

Maybe nothing does last forever. But Nino is here, now, and they have ‘forever’ in this moment of stillness and deep blue light and quiet breaths against warm skin. It’s enough for Ohno, and he can’t imagine ever wanting it to change.

Maybe, he thinks as sleep finally claims him, forever won’t be such a hard promise to keep after all.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) originally written for the ohmiyawedding fanfic contest @ LJ  
> 2) endless thanks to everyone who voted for me, i was really touched to see how many people enjoyed this (;_;) honestly, this is something i've been working on for a while, and i really wasn't sure if i should post it, but then the wedding came along and i thought it was the perfect opportunity.  
> 3) this fic really came together when i heard the song [if you're gone](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clKAdQnwJ7A) by matchbox 20 again for the first time in a long time. you don't really have to listen to it to read the story, but i think it touches on a lot of the emotions going on here.  
> 4) these rings do, in fact, exist. in japan, no less! unfortunately, i don't remember the name of the shop where i saw them, or i'd link a picture :(  
> 5) ohno's answer to that interview question is based on a real answer he gave in a magazine interview in real life. if i were more awesome i would get up off my butt and go find out which mag/issue it is, but...i'm a little lazy :D;;


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